


Angels and Ministers of Grace

by a_mere_trifle



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: AU, Gen, Vampires, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-11
Updated: 2010-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_mere_trifle/pseuds/a_mere_trifle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(for the PL fan meme. prompt: Anton is a *real* vampire. yes, i filled it twice.) Luke tried to jerk away, but the shadows had him, now, wrapped around his wrists, tilting his head to the side, and he wanted to close his eyes, as if he could shut it away, as if he could open them and none of it would have happened--</p><p>--but he didn't, and so he saw the Professor force his way through the crowd behind them, looking-- absolutely furious, when Luke wasn't sure he'd ever seen the Professor more than 'vaguely annoyed'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels and Ministers of Grace

The change went through the room like a shiver, everything suddenly going bright and hazy; Luke edged backward, closer to the Professor, as he stared around him. What had been a dark, formal bedroom was now a bright, formal ballroom, gold and sparkling, and filled with people. Beautiful people, actually, in elegant dress, all of them in motion-- everything in motion, except for Luke and the Professor. They were the hub at the center of it--

\--No; that wasn't true. They weren't the center of this at all. The gleam of a spotlight caught his eye; it was following one couple as they wound their way through the dance floor, weaving though the other couples like they weren't even there. They were the center of this.

"Duke Anton..." Luke whispered, barely audible, afraid almost to breathe. "And that woman..."

"From the painting," said the Professor, almost as quietly. "The one who looks suspiciously like Katia..."

A plate dropped, somewhere; the couple stopped short, as the woman who wasn't quite Katia caught sight of them. She gasped, a hand coming to her mouth. "Anton, who is that?!"

"Hmm?" Anton turned, and Luke shuddered: there was something very wrong with the way the light reflected in his eyes, with the quality of the smile that was spreading across his face. "Oh, these two. Never you mind, my darling. These are just tonight's main course...!"

And suddenly it wasn't elegantly dressed dancers that were surrounding them, but red-eyed shadows that were closing in fast.

"Professor!" Luke cried, and let out an undignified yelp as he was tackled away, caught up in the movements of the shadows.

"Luke!" he heard the Professor cry, from far away, so far away already. Luke tried to fight his way out, but the shadows had him boxed in, capturing him like a current.

"Hmm.." said Anton, the shadows moving aside to let him pass. "I always did believe that children should be seen and not heard."

Anton smiled, baring teeth that were too white and too glistening and far, far too sharp. "Besides... that Professor of yours has such potential. I'll be very interested to see what happens when I turn you against him..."

"W--what?! I'd never...!"

"Never? Never is a very long time, my boy... and you don't have the faintest comprehension of what that word might mean." Anton leaned forward slowly, eyes fever-bright. Luke tried to jerk away, but the shadows had him, now, wrapped around his wrists, tilting his head to the side, and he wanted to close his eyes, as if he could shut it away, as if he could open them and none of it would have happened--

\--but he didn't, and so he saw the Professor force his way through the crowd behind them, looking-- absolutely _furious_ , when Luke wasn't sure he'd ever seen the Professor more than 'vaguely annoyed', not even when he'd broken that one ancient artifact. Luke was at once more scared than ever and strangely comforted, because that expression was not turned toward him.

The Professor reached out, just as Anton's fangs grazed Luke's skin, and grabbed the vampire by the hair, yanking his head up cruelly. " _You will listen to your elders,_ " he hissed. "You are being _terribly_ rude."

Anton blinked, the shadows dissolving; Luke found himself off-balance, and fell to his knees, too engrossed in the scene before him to prevent it. He felt like it ought to be raining, like there ought to be thunder and lightning shaking the world, but there was just the Professor, sternly folding his arms, only a hint of something unusual in his eyes. Luke wasn't sure whether to describe them as strangely bright or strangely dark, but they couldn't be both at once, could they?

"You should apologize to me and my apprentice this instant," said the Professor, glaring at the hazy-eyed vampire.

"I apologize, your Grace," said Anton, a bit dreamily. "I have been terribly rude to you both."

"That's better. Thank you." The Professor walked over to Luke, kneeling down beside him. "Are you all right, Luke?"

"Er... yes? I think?"

The Professor inspected Luke's neck, with a slight frown. "Well, no lasting harm done. Which you should be grateful for," he added, glaring again at the vampire. "If you had harmed my apprentice, it would have gone... very badly for you."

"Yes, your Grace," said Anton. "I am most dreadfully sorry."

"Now," said the Professor, standing. "There is a girl in the front hall. You are going to go speak with her. You are going to listen to what she has to say, calmly and rationally. And you are not to harm a hair on her head. Other than that, how you decide to react to what she has to tell you is entirely up to you."

"Yes, your Grace," said Anton, bowing deeply. "I thank you for your mercy, your Grace."

"As well you should. Now, go." Professor Layton folded his arms again, glaring after the man as he made his way to the main hall.

"...I told you he was a vampire," said Luke.

"Yes," said the Professor. "I must apologize for my earlier skepticism."

"Why is the vampire duke calling you 'your Grace'?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," said the Professor, frowning. "I suppose it must be a vampire thing."

"Haven't the faintest--?!"

"We should follow him," said the Professor. "This is likely to be a most remarkable story. Come, Luke."

"But--!"

The Professor left, and Luke had no choice but to follow him.

-

The Professor had been right; it had been a most remarkable story. But if he'd expected it to distract Luke forever, he'd been sorely mistaken.

Still, for the most part, Luke _did_ forget about it, until Flora brought in a copy of the newspaper on their train ride home. "Look at this!" she cried. "The Professor! He's all right!"

"Wait, what?" said Luke. "Which Professor? He's right--"

"No, no, Dr. Schrader!" said Flora, spreading the newspaper out between them. Luke craned his forward to look; "Renowned Archaeologist Makes Miracle Recovery!" said the headline, with a large picture of the suspiciously alive Professor sitting up in his hospital bed, surrounded by bouquets, well-wishers, and confused-looking doctors.

"Oh, how marvelous!" said the Professor. "So he's all right after all. We must make certain to visit him on our way back home."

"But the symposium--" Luke protested weakly, before finding a way to put his main objection into words. "You don't recover from being _dead_!"

"Evidently he must not have been dead," said the Professor, with a slight frown.

"But you looked at him! The Inspector looked at him! The doctors looked at him! He was certainly dead when we _left_!"

"I suppose we were mistaken," said the Professor, with a shrug.

"How could you all have been mistaken?! And even if you were, wouldn't he have been put in a morgue or something, how could they have found--"

"Really, Luke," said the Professor. "I know you like to think me infallible, but the truth is, even I can make mistakes. A gentleman admits his errors and moves on, learning from what he has done. Clearly we were mistaken. There is no other logical explanation. Or illogical explanation, as a matter of fact."

Luke stared at him, remembering how he had watched a vampire descend on him with glittering fangs. "Riiiight," he said.

His tone of voice did little to disguise his skepticism, but the Professor either didn't notice or didn't care. "Then it's settled," he said. "Even if I must miss the symposium, one must always show proper consideration to one's mentor." He winked.

Luke smiled back. _I don't care how long it takes,_ he thought. _I WILL get to the bottom of this._

(~)

(optional epilogue-- this may or may not be the answer :D)

"But you were dead," Luke said. Again.

Professor Layton sighed. "I do apologize, Andrew," he said. "Ever since we met that... oddly vampiric creature... he's got all sorts of terribly silly notions in his head."

"He was _dead_ ," Luke insisted. "And Duke Anton was a vampire, you admitted it yourself!"

"Well," said Layton, "I suppose I did, but really, that was an awfully hasty conclusion to--"

"He was eternally young! He had fangs! And I saw what you did to him!"

"I don't have the faintest idea what you're--"

"Really, Hershel," Andrew interrupted, "I understand wanting to protect the boy, but it sounds to be like the cat is quite thoroughly out of the bag."

"...Your pardon?" said Layton.

"Ha!" Luke crowed. "I KNEW it!!"

"At some point, it's really too cruel to keep if from him," Andrew went on. "Especially knowing as much as he does; he might do his own research, and get dangerously wrong ideas. You really must tell him the truth."

"...What truth?" said Layton.

Andrew blinked. "About the angels," he said. "Surely you remember."

"What angels?"

"...The tablet I gave you to translate your second year?" said Andrew. "The one about the Biblical passage, wherein certain angels-- er-- get terribly naughty with human women?"

"Yes, I remember that, but what does it have to to with anything?"

"...You don't remember telling me it sounded terribly familiar?" said Andrew, an increasingly wary look in his eyes.

"Well, yes, but--"

"You don't recall me telling you how there might be systems in place to locate such descendants, creating sort of master/apprentice relationships?"

"Well, yes, but that was hypothetical. And a terribly odd tangent to take."

"You don't remember me telling you to use your powers wisely."

"Critical thinking is really a terribly powerful way to--"

"Oh, dear God," said Andrew, putting his head in his hand. "Hershel. Hershel. Sometimes I worry about you."

"...So you actually were dead?" said Layton.

"Yes. Yes I was."

"And I actually did subdue Duke Anton, who was actually a vampire, with some arcane supernatural power."

"Yes. Yes, you did."

"And you thought you told me about all of this years ago?"

"Years and years. I was positive you knew."

"...I always thought that committee of yours sounded terribly unorthodox," murmured Layton, unnerved.

" _Hershel_." Andrew bowed his head. "It's a testament to your powers that you've lived this long, really it is."

"Er. You don't also happen to know why Don Paolo is so terribly angry with me, do you?"

"You don't-- oh, _Hershel_!"

"I'll take that as a yes," Layton muttered, pulling his hat over his eyes.

Luke patted him on the arm. "It's all right, Professor," he said. To his credit, he almost didn't sound smug at all. "Better late than never, anyway. And besides! I'm sure you can do all sorts of neat things now!"

"Oh, I have failed you," Andrew muttered. "The second I leave this hospital, we are all going to sit down somewhere and have a very long and detailed chat. Possibly with lecture notes. And diagrams."

"Can I come?" said Luke, eagerly.

"Of course you can. It involves you as well. It involves anyone Hershel's chosen to take under his wing. There is rarely such a thing as coincidence."

"Oh dear lord, Flora," said Layton.

"Oh, _brilliant!_ " Luke cried.

"You have two. Oh, good heavens, I have failed you." Andrew sighed. "Go home and get some rest, Hershel. You look like you need it. The very moment I am out of this place, I will call you."

"Come on, Professor," said Luke. "Let me make you a nice cup of tea."

"Oh, don't patronize me, Luke..."

Luke's giggle as he led the Professor out of the room wasn't precicely befitting of a gentleman, but at the moment, Layton didn't really feel he was in a position to complain.

(~)

 


End file.
